The fiction thread

[HeavenForbid]

*deleted*

[Guest [x]whacko[x]jen[x]]

Wow, that is really good, so are the other stories. I think I will post my story that I got a B+ for this year, but I will have to wait till I go back to school from holidays to get my book. It was a writing assignment that we had to write so our teacher could get a fair idea of our story writing skills. Something like that anyway. Mine is written as if I were to be telling the story to the reader. The main idea of it is that I had been driving along and as I was passing through this country town, I was pulled over by a cop and dragged into a jail cell, for no reason. It's left with a cliffhanger, do I escape or not?

I guess I should write a sequel. Maybe later.

I'll post my story here once I get my book from school. If anyone wants me to post it?

[Oxidizer]

This is something I wrote for a long original story, which I doubt I'll post the whole thing here as it's a little too dark and lengthy, so I figured I'd post this small part that I did a moment ago out of boredom:

Captured perfectly on the screen of a digital camera was the cloned figure of a boy in his late teens, illuminated in the dark, from below the metal stairwell of the industrialized parking lot where a woman stood watch. She had peroxide blonde hair that was pinned up in a neat and stylish bun, wearing black thick-rimmed designer glasses that faintly conveyed her identity. Dressed in a tight dark pantsuit that outlined her slim and slender figure to perfection, the white seashell-haired woman smirked in reaction to hearing the electronically motored sound of photos being developed. On her shoulder was a strap to a case that sustained her laptop computer. First glances of her and anyone would have thought she was a businesswoman - but she was something far more dangerous. A derisive smile crept across her lips as she held on to the stairwell's railings and observed the energetic crowd before her. The metal studded stairs she stood on led to the warehouse's rooftop, where smoke rose from chimneys and fumes poisoned the crisp midnight air.

The blurred luminescence of glowsticks being waved, and that of car headlights from those dogging, were the only sources of light that brightened the docks, situated in L.A.'s less glamorous side. Ravers jeered in synchronicity to the furious Techno-Industrial hybrid that roared from the sound system, making the speakers rattle and shake. It was the prime location for whores to seek out those who acquired their services.

[Roccoluver]

wow, all these stories are awesome and take a long time to read, great work and maybe I will post my own soon.

[Cerise]

This is something I wrote for a long original story, which I doubt I'll post the whole thing here as it's a little too dark and lengthy, so I figured I'd post this small part that I did a moment ago out of boredom:

Captured perfectly on the screen of a digital camera, illuminated in the dark, was the cloned figure of a boy in his late teens from below the metal stairwell of the industrialized parking lot where a woman stood watch. She had peroxide blonde hair that was pinned up in a neat and stylish bun, wearing black thick-rimmed designer glasses that faintly conveyed her identity. Dressed in a tight dark pantsuit, that outlined her slim and slender figure to perfection, the white seashell-haired woman smirked in reaction to hearing the stifled-motored sound of photos being developed. On her shoulder was a strap to a case that sustained her laptop computer. First glances of her and anyone would've thought of her as a businesswoman, but she was something far more dangerous. A derisive smile played across her pursed lips, accompanied by an amused squint to her jet eyes, as she held on to the stairwell's railings and observed the energetic crowd before her. The metal studded stairs she stood on led to the warehouse's rooftop, where chimney's choked out smoke and fumes, that made a poisonous fog corrupt the crisp and cold midnight air.

Glowsticks and the murky orange glow of the streetlights that lined the roadsides were the only sources of light that shone on the docks, situated in L.A.'s more rougher side. Doped up kids and punks jeered in synchronicity to the thumping basslines of the furious Techno-Industrial hybrid that bellowed from the mega sound system, that made the speakers rattle and shake. It was a prime location to find clients who would require the whores' special services.

...

You must Post full length!

[Oxidizer]

You must Post full length!

Thanks! Once I've finished it I'll check to see whether or not it's "too dark" or not. We'll see.

[Cerise]

I get what your saying. You could always post on LJ though

Problem with me is, I can only write really really Dark stuff (and I mean really) or really non-dark. It's quite sucky.

[Oxidizer]

That's the same with me! But I'm hoping to mix the light and the dark themes together with this (the story's called Products).

I'll definitely post it on LJ either way. Here are the character bios to give you a small glimpse of how dark this stuff will be. It'll be 2 chapters long.

[Oxidizer]

Okay, so I just finished the 1st chapter. You can read it here.

Be warned: it's very dark.

[Cerise]

Hmpf... here's something I found that was once my English Homework... well it was the introduction to it anyway, it's too long to type up but if any one's interested wrote it when I was 15 btw...

Stop.

Three Times Five Equals Fifteen.

The number Fifteen symbolises a lot in my life. At least this year. All together I have Fifteen living, close Relations, and the number of houses on this street is Fifteen. That includes a tiny shed like place, where no-one seems to be living at the moment. It is Number Fifteen, Lakedown road. I am also Fifteen years old.

Next year, we will probably be living somewhere where there's Sixteen Houses on a street, and my new brother/sister will be born. A Mysterious little shack, well it might be Number Sixteen. I will also be Sixteen years old.

I would go on to Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen... but it would make a very boring story, and seemingly pointless. Anyway, you get the drift. My Parents have this

strange thing about me, I don't know what it is. But every time I age by one year, they

more somewhere else with an extra house at the end of the street. It's probably just their way of running from mistakes they made previously. I am the youngest out of all my siblings, and Mum never planned to have anymore Kids, so I recon she thought I was special as I'm the last Lucas. But, this would change next year. Times running out to figure out the real reason, I know I am so close to an answer.

Stop.